


All Tied Up

by doilycoffin



Series: Swesson Love Week 2016 [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blindfolds, Bottom Sam, Light Bondage, M/M, Office Sex, Possessive Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-26 11:40:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7572790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doilycoffin/pseuds/doilycoffin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam Wesson was just having another boring day until he was called into his boss' office. It gets a lot more interesting after that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Tied Up

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: “My computer is not working and I don’t know what these wires are for but I’m going to tie you up with them”

At first, it had just been another boring day in the middle of a boring week filled with people calling about jammed printers and frozen computers until Sam got a call in the afternoon and was greeted by the sound of a rich, familiar voice:

 

“Mr. Wesson? I’m afraid that I’m having some technical problems. I tried to handle it myself, but it turned out to be a lot _harder_ than I anticipated. Do you think that you could come up here and give me a hand?”

 

Sam nearly snorted at the cheesy, innuendo laced words and could perfectly visualize the sleazy smirk on Dean’s face as he said them.

 

“Mr. Smith, have you tried turning it off and then on again?,” he droned tonelessly. He was never opposed to having an office quickie with his ridiculously attractive boss, but he also couldn’t resist screwing with him a little bit first.

 

Dean groaned. “Don’t be a dick, Sam.”

 

“My apologies, _sir_ ,” Sam responded, very unapologetically. “I should be able to fit you into my schedule within the next couple of hours.”

 

“Make it five minutes. Your boss’ needs should take priority, you know. You don’t want to get punished, do you?”

 

“No, sir, of course not,” Sam lied as a dozen different but equally desirable “punishments” bombarded his imagination at once.

 

“Good boy,” Dean purred. “Now, make it snappy.”

 

And with that, he hung up the phone, leaving Sam sitting in his cubicle as he tried to force his erection to disappear through sheer force of will. He thought about taking his sweet time getting up to Dean’s office just to tick the other man off, but that was easier said than done and his khakis were growing tighter by the second.

 

So it was after only about three minutes of excruciation that Sam leapt from his desk and, while holding a clipboard in front of his pants in a way that he hoped was at least vaguely inconspicuous, began his journey to Dean’s office.

 

When he finally arrived, Dean ushered him inside and closed the door behind him. When Sam heard the unmistakable sound of the lock turning, he couldn’t repress a little shiver of anticipation.

 

“What seems to be the issue, Mr. Smith?,” he asked as professionally as possible for someone whose entire blood supply was currently in his dick.

 

Dean  leered at him unsubtly, letting his eyes travel the length of Sam’s body before casually saying “There seems to be something wrong with my computer mouse. I just can’t get it to work.”

 

Sam’s brow furrowed a little bit in confusion. Did Dean _actually_ have a computer problem for once? Sam looked over to the spot that housed his computer and saw an unplugged mouse cord sitting next to it.

 

“Uh, well it kind of looks like you ripped the mouse from its port so...that’s probably the issue, I’m guessing. Just plug it back in.”

 

Dean clasped his hands together. “Ah, mystery solved,” he proclaimed brightly.

 

“Dude, did you seriously call me up here because of a computer mouse?”

 

Dean walked over and picked up the long cord. “In a manner of speaking, yes,” he answered and grinned in a way that was equal parts charming and predatory. “Take off your clothes, Sam.”

 

Sam raised an eyebrow but acquiesced to the demand and began shimmying out of his clothes until he was standing in the middle of the office completely nude while Dean remained fully clothed.

 

“Your office is freakin’ cold,” he complained as goosebumps appeared on his arms. “Can you just fuck me already?”

 

“Patience, Sam,” Dean tsked. “Now how about you lean over the desk  and put your hands behind your back?”

 

Sam wanted to talk back, but he couldn’t help but be curious about what Dean had planned, so he obediently followed his instructions. Once he was settled, Dean finally moved from his spot by the computer and stood behind Sam. When he felt something begin to wrap around his wrists and bind them together, it became clear to him why Dean wanted him to have his hands behind his back and almost felt surprised by how _un_ surprised he was by this development. Dean could be such a control freak that it had only been a matter of time until he wanted to tie Sam up so he could do whatever he wanted to him.

 

Sam was very much on board with this course of action.

 

“This doesn’t seem like very appropriate usage of office equipment,” he snarked and was rewarded by Dean lightly slapping him on the ass, wringing a surprised yelp out of him.

 

“Well, I won’t tell if you don’t,” Dean said lowly while rubbing his palm over the area that he just smacked to soothe away the slight sling.

 

“Hey, I’m not complaining. If you wanna tie me up and have your wicked way with me, be my guest. Just try not to leave any marks; I’m having dinner with my folks tomorrow and don’t exactly want to explain that they’re from the kinky sex that I have with my boss on a regular basis.”

 

Dean snorted. “You know you love it when I mark you up,” he muttered arrogantly, but he still slipped a couple of fingers under the bindings to make sure that they weren’t tight enough to cut off circulation or otherwise injure him. Sam couldn’t help but smile a little at the gesture; Dean could be a control freak, sure, but he never actually wanted to _hurt_ him. Not without Sam’s enthusiastic permission anyway.

 

Once Dean seemed content with his work, Sam wiggled impatiently on the desk, moaning a little at the way that his dick rubbed across the fancy, wood varnish. “ _Now_ can we have sex?,” he whined.

 

“Almost. There’s just one thing missing.”

 

Sam craned his neck to look backwards at Dean in askance and saw that his nimble fingers were undoing his expensive, silk tie and pulling it off of his neck. He then cupped Sam’s chin and gently turned his head back around before draping it across his eyes and tying it off, and Sam found that being tied up and blindfolded gave him a sense of vulnerability that made him feel exhilarated and nervous at the same time.

 

“There we go,” Dean said, satisfied. “I think we’re ready to get started now.”

 

Without further ado, he gently kicked Sam’s legs apart until he was spread out beneath him in just the right way and reached into his desk for the lube that he kept on hand for the nooners that they liked to frequently indulge in. He rubbed a glob of it between his fingers to warm it up before sinking two fingers inside of Sam. Sam couldn’t help but arch into Dean’s touch and rock wantonly against his fingers but it wasn’t long before Dean put a firm hand on his lower back and pressed him back against the table.

 

“Settle down, Sam. I’m running the show right now; just lay back and let it happen,” Dean crooned.

 

Sam grunted in frustration but it died off midway into a needy moan when Dean crooked his fingers and rubbed teasingly against his prostate and he tried his best to relax and patiently allow Dean to work him open. A few minutes later, Dean’s fingers withdrew and Sam was jarred from his pleasant reverie by the sound of his zipper being pulled down.

 

“You’ve been a good boy, Sam. I think it’s time that you’re rewarded for it, don’t you?”

 

“Please, _please_ ,” Sam babbled, “I’ve been so good, just please--”

 

Sam’s begging was cut off by a choked moan when Dean lined himself up and _finally_ pushed inside of him. Once he was balls deep inside of him, Sam could feel the fabric of his pants against his ass and realized that Dean hadn’t even bothered to undress before getting his dick out, the lazy bastard. He definitely wasn’t going to stick around if Dean decided to bitch about dry cleaning later.

 

As Dean began to move inside of him, Sam was pushed across the desk by the sheer force of his thrusts and tried to brace himself with his hands before remembering that they were bound behind his back. He had no choice but to let himself be dragged back and forth on the desk by Dean’s cock and he couldn’t deny that being manhandled like this was nearly enough to push him over the edge. Eventually, Sam couldn’t help but dissolve into an incoherent mess of moaning and pleading for Dean to fuck him harder.

 

“You gotta be quiet, Sammy,” Dean insisted as he slid his hand underneath Sam’s face and pressed it against his mouth to muffle his cries. “Someone’s gonna break down the door if you get any louder.”

 

Sam whimpered against his palm.

 

“But maybe you’d like that,” Dean mused, punctuating his words with a sharp thrust, “I bet you’d love it if someone walked in right now and saw you all trussed up and spread out on my desk, begging for my dick like a whore. Too bad I don’t like to share.”

 

At this, Sam shuddered as he came without a hand on him and panted as the aftershocks of his orgasm coursed through his body. After only a few more unsteady, rhythmless thrusts, Dean followed suit and Sam could feel him coming inside of him. For a minute, they both just enjoyed the afterglow and Dean leaned against Sam’s back, placing lazy kisses against his neck before finally sliding out of him.

 

Sam could feel come begin to trickle out of his hole and he felt so fucked out and sated that he barely even reacted when Dean put his fingers inside of him without warning and pushed the come back in, playing idly with his release. A minute later he brought his fingers to tap at Sam’s lips.

 

“Open your mouth,” he commanded. Sam obliged and sucked his fingers clean while Dean hummed approvingly.

 

“Are gonna untie me any time soon?”

 

“In a second. There’s just one more thing that I want to do.”

 

He could hear Dean rustle around in his desk for a few seconds, but the blindfold prevented him from having any idea what he was doing. A few seconds later, Dean had evidently found whatever he was looking for and Sam felt the object press down against his ass and leave behind something wet.

 

“What the hell was that?”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean replied before blowing across the area. “Just wanted you to remember who this ass belongs to.”

 

“Whatever, weirdo,” Sam mumbled. He still felt too sated to bother arguing with Dean, and he let himself get distracted by Dean tugging off his blindfold and fumbling with the knots around his wrist. Once Sam was finally free and able to see again, he took the time study Dean while he flexed his wrists and was pleased to note that the normally fastidious man looked as disheveled as Sam felt. He was about to tease him about the state of his clothes when Dean spoke before he had the chance.

 

“I can come with you tomorrow if you want, you know.”

 

“Huh, what are you talking about?,” Sam asked, truly perplexed.

 

Dean began to look a little sheepish and unsure, a far cry from the confident man who just fucked Sam within an inch of his life. “Earlier, you said you were having dinner with your parents tomorrow. I could go with you if you want.”

 

“You want to meet my parents?”

 

“If you want me too. Maybe it’s time that we started branching out beyond just fucking around a few times a week. You know, get more serious. I mean, we have a pretty good thing going on between us...don’t we?”

 

Sam’s face softened as he saw how insecure Dean looked in the wake of his confession.

 

“Yeah,” he murmured as he dragged Dean into a kiss, “it’s a pretty good thing.”

                                                                               

                                                                                ******************

 

Later that evening as Sam was about to hop in the shower, he noticed something strange as he walked past his bathroom mirror. It looked like there was something written in ink right across his ass and he stepped closer to try and get a better look at it. Once he did, he quickly deduced that it was a stamp.

 

A stamp that very clearly said “Dean Smith.”

 

“I can’t believe that asshole,” Sam grumbled as a smile broke across his face that belied his words. He kind of liked the way Dean’s name looked against his skin.

 

He liked the feeling of belonging to him even more.

 


End file.
